


The Commish and Rad Scientist

by MaroonGhost



Category: ARMS (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29767719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonGhost/pseuds/MaroonGhost
Summary: Dr. Coyle is ashamed how hard she falls for Max Brass.
Relationships: Dr. Coyle & Max Brass (ARMS)





	The Commish and Rad Scientist

"What?!"  
The time ran out on the third match of the Grand Prix, and Helix was the victor. If she had only avoided that Blorb punch, she would've had enough HP to beat him, but he landed one at the last second. Dr. Coyle lost by default. And at the slimy green hands of her own creation, no less.  
As if in confusion, Helix extended his body upwards, the pose he always struck when he won a round. Dr. Coyle felt like she was being disrespected because of that, as if he were figuratively and literally looking down on her.  
With the entitlement of a middle-aged soccer mom, she threw her usual temper tantrum she did when she lost a match conscious. Her fans admired how sore of a loser she was somehow, and cheered even after it was clear she lost this time.  
After the match and the two of them left the laboratory, Biff went to console her, the way he consoled every loser. After all, every one of them were equal in might; it was usually up to chance which one won or lost.  
"Don't worry, Dr.," said Biff. "I'm sure you'll bounce back like you always do. Won't be long until you get a new shiny belt, I'm sure."  
"You've only got one fist that's worth anything," said Dr. Coyle, getting off the bench, "And I've got four." At this point, both her extra arms came out of her shoulders and armed themselves with Clapbacks and Triblasts. "If I had half my brain, I'd stop talking to me right fucking now."  
Putting his left hand behind his head and nervously laughing, Biff left her alone. He knew there was only one person who could calm her down, and he wasn't him.  
...  
A knock on his door, Max Brass opened it and looked out. There were no paparazzi; while they tired out most other fighters, Max Brass was so self-absorbed the opposite was true for him. Instead, it was a familiar head of green styled hair.  
"Coyle!" he said. "I saw that match on TV, you did great!"  
Dr. Coyle, instead of properly responding, shoved her face into Max's chest. It wasn't currently puffed up, so it was rather soft and inviting right now. Too inviting. He was the epitome of a quote unquote ‘Chad', his body disproportionately muscular. It was to the point it would be unhealthy for most people, the weight of all that muscle putting so much strain on everything else. But somehow, Max handled it well; likely because they were only so oversized when he needed them to be. And that was what dragged Dr. Coyle back to him again; those superfluous feelings of lust. She was too concerned with her research in ARMS development and mastery she had no time to pay most emotions any attention. But lust was so necessary for humankind it shows up rather often in most people, and Dr. Coyle wished she weren't one of the many who were often distracted by it.  
"Hello Max," she finally said, her mouth muffled by Max's pecs.  
He peeled her off his chest, gave her a quick kiss on her forehead and pulled her inside, closing the door.  
"Want something?" asked Max Brass, referring to food or drink. "I've got some leftover pizza and soda."  
"That'll work," said Coyle.  
And five minutes later, the two of them were at the kitchen table and eating leftover pizza and drinking soda.  
"Did you know soda is sold at an over 1000% markup?" asked Coyle.  
"No," said Max. "I'm not the smartest, remember?"  
"Right," she sighed, frustrated. "Anyway, that means that if a can of soda costs three coins, if we ignore the cost of the can itself, it will cost one coin to manufacture three."  
Max nodded his airy head up and down, chewing his pizza. "Cool."  
Upset, Dr. Coyle put the can to her lips and took a drink. Once she put the can down, there was a smudge of her signature dark purple lipstick on it. Max Brass wasn't stupid enough to not know what that meant.  
"You dressed up for me, huh?"  
"What? I always look like this."  
That was true; her classic green, purple and black garb, not to mention jetpack and spiky stilettos, were used whenever she appeared publicly.  
"But you reapplied your lipstick, right?"  
Another thing that comes with being a Chad; you knew when a girl was falling for you, and using make-up was a sure sign. And while it could be leftover from any form of public appearance, you could possibly find evidence it was put on recently.  
"Absolutely not," said Coyle. You know, like a liar.  
"Alright."  
The two of them had known each other since college, and held the longest relationship the both of them had; three years long. It was one fateful night when the two of them got into an argument over brains or brawn being better that made them split, and while Max was still as buddy-buddy with her as possible, Dr. Coyle held the blackest grudge against him she could muster. Which is how they were right now.  
"You know," said Max, muting the deafening silence, "I'm bigger than I was back then. I'm happy that there are more than muscly fighters in the ring with me. I underestimated how useful fat could be in a fight until Master Mummy put me in my place, Mechanica taught me how important brains can be with her huge bulking mech, and everyone else fairs pretty well despite having less muscle mass than me or none at all. I'm more than proud of you and your accomplishments, Coyle."  
Coyle looked around the room, not wanting to meet Max's iris-less eyes. He had a point; he could kick anyone's ass, and anyone could kick his ass in return, even her. But there was something within her that wanted to dismiss it as lies.  
"And you really don't want the public coming and figuring out what you're doing with me, right?"  
Coyle snapped out of her trance. "Of course not. That would ruin my reputation and boost yours. Everyone's already conspiring about it, and even more fuel to the metaphorical fire would only spell disaster."  
"Are you sure? It would bridge a gap between our fans. All my fans and all your fans don't get along well, you know. If we came out as something official, it would help them get along."  
"Are you suggesting we become a... thing again?"  
Max nodded his head up and down.  
"Disgusting."  
Max felt his ego take a huge hit at that single ten-lettered word.  
"Have you any idea how despicable you are? I was the best relationship you had, and you threw it away with no regards for me. And now you resort to dumpster-diving right to my face? Hahaha! Pathetic!"  
Max got out of his seat, his stomach to turbulent to eat anything more. He stomped off into his room and locked the door.  
Coyle soon realized what it meant if she didn't ask for forgiveness; that huge brass rod she sank so low to take would remain unavailable. Her face fell soon, and she silently floated to the door.  
"Max?" she called.  
Nothing.  
"Max?" she called again.  
"What?"  
"I didn't mean what I said back there."  
"...Really?" asked the voice behind the door.  
"It was wrong of me to say that. I put my ego above yours, and I realize that was a poor mistake. I'm sorry."  
The door stood still for a moment, then it slowly opened. Max was on the bed, and had used his arm's length to remotely open it. He saw the humiliated look on Coyle's face, and decided she really was sorry for what she said.  
Chuckling as if to express forgiveness, Max grabbed her from the other side of the doorway, carelessly yanked her onto his bed hugged her tightly. Confused and disoriented, she eventually returned the hug.  
...  
It was the next day, and Dr. Coyle's head was foggy. She blinked a few times, and looked around the bright room. Bright... her room was never bright. That meant she was not home. And that was usually bad.  
She looked at her body, and found she was completely nude. Some sick fuck had stripped her! And even worse, her weapons were missing. Where were her Lokjaws? Her Parabolae? Her Brrchuks?  
"Good morning Coyle."  
A few more blinks, and Coyle remembered the circumstances of her current state. Her heart rate fell, and she sunk back into bed. She was much safer than she previously thought. Too her left, equally unarmed and naked, was Max, grinning wide and proudly.  
"Morning, Max."  
"Want some breakfast?"  
"Not yet."  
This always happened. How could Max make a mascara-melted mockery of her and think he did her a favor? She thought she was the worst, but apparently that wasn't the case. Coyle fell right back asleep.  
...  
Once she awoke, it was much later in the day; around midnoon. There was in place of Max a plate of waffles and a note.  
"Fighting. See you later Coyle. -Max"  
Coyle tossed the note aside coldly and chomped the food down. She had no reason to be thankful according to her; it was Max's fault for not refusing her sex. If he wanted to treat her better than she deserved, it was his loss.  
Floating out the bedroom door and turning invisible, Coyle was ready to intrude on the next Grand Prix. As she usually did. All she had to do was sneak her way to the top of the tower and hide until the evening.  
...  
Helix, the traitor, was up to bat against Max Brass. The latter's arms crossed, he was completely unaware Coyle was right next to him. Until the audience gasped. "Aw, crap," he whispered to himself before feeling the huge metal fist on the side of his face.  
"Suck on that!" she shouted, until Max Brass puffed himself up. A few more punches were hurled his way, but he armored through them and threw a grab. Soon Dr. Coyle was in his merciful grasp.  
"You sure like meeting me wherever I go," said Max.  
"Throw me already you heathen!" she said. "Bounce me off your gross chest and keep fighting, coward!"  
"Not today," said Max, kissing her on her mouth. The audience gasped louder than they did ten seconds ago, with the smooch now televised and having dozens, if not hundreds of present eyewitnesses. Max's Nade was holding her in place, and it was hard to see but she was blushing more than she would like to admit.  
By the time he finally separated themselves, Dr. Coyle admitted defeat; yes, she did like Max. Yes, she could forgive his transgression from so long ago. And yes, his muscles were extremely hot.  
"I guess we're finally a thing now," said Coyle.  
"I don't believe it!" said Biff. "The Commish and Rad Scientist kissed on TV?! It's a paparazzi's dream!"  
"Helix?" said Max, looking at him. "Guess you win by default, cause me and Coyle have places to be!"  
Helix looked a little excited. Only a little, as he wasn't the best at moving his face.  
Max in her hands now, Coyle floated into the air and the two of them disappeared.


End file.
